Mar/Apr 2020 • Vol. XLII No. 2 PoetryFebruary 28, 2020 |

love poem that ends at popeyes

it’s valentine’s day & i hear tires on the slick streets it is raining a slow steady rain the kind that makes me saddest because it seems endless & even after the sky having forgotten its big-eyed blue stands aloof distant while the sun mumbling from her side of the bed settles into a doze i am thinking of the meal i won’t have to brave those streets clamp-thighed in a passenger seat to eat or the flowers i will not have to accept awkwardly because flowers are such strange gifts why undress the ground just to prove i am special? we could go to the botanical gardens hold hands smell the smells that come at me all at once in a sneeze or we could pull over on the highway run through fields of bonnets which are sometimes so buckled with sky they look bruised why has no one ever loved me that way a bonnet might engorge itself with blue so much it is a new color unnameable breathless my loves hold their breaths calculating they wa

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Playing Dead

By Sally Wen Mao

it’s valentine’s day & i hear tires on the slick streets it is raining a slow steady rain the kind that makes me saddest because it seems endless & even […]

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